


I'll Wait for You

by SpookyMiscreant



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 05:51:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15454746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookyMiscreant/pseuds/SpookyMiscreant
Summary: Day six: Time Travel + BAMF StilesSome witches roll into town and it's up to Peter and Stiles to stop them, but things go sideways when one of the witches sends Peter away. But where away? Or rather, when?





	I'll Wait for You

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to our wonderful mods!  
> Here's my attempt at BAMF Stiles and Time Travel!  
> Enjoy!  
> [Check out my tumblr post!](https://lacrossepapi.tumblr.com/post/176341944343/forever-yours)

Peter hated dark witches. The rotting magic that surrounded them smelled like death and they usually weren't the cleanest people on top of that. Not to mention all the sacrificing and blood rituals. They were so messy. Peter had no patience for their bullshit, so when he caught whiff of one he immediately called a pack meeting to alert everyone of the problem. 

They needed to know how many witches were in town before taking any of them out because a dark witch with a vendetta is never something they would want to face. The pack was large enough now that they could easily spread out and start sniffing around for more rot and decay until they located all of the witches. Unfortunately their Alpha was still a young man with a need to see the best in everyone. 

-

“Are you fucking kidding me, Scott?” his partner's voice was always more intoxicating when he was angry. 

“We can't just go in guns blazing. We need to be diplomatic about this.” Scott foolishly insisted. 

“Stiles’ plan makes sense. And diplomacy left four dead bodies ago.” Peter spoke from his place on the stairs. 

“Thanks babe.” Triumph swelled through Stiles’ body language, but Peter knew better. “We are not killing the witches.” Were Scott's final words on the matter as he stormed out of their apartment. 

“He’s going to get himself killed.” Stiles sighed, slumping down to sit between Peter's legs. 

“Better he than us.” Peter said as he ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair. 

Stiles shook his head once to remind Peter he did not agree with the man's view, but they'd long ago decided to stop arguing about that specific ideology. 

The younger man leaned further into his lover's embrace with a deep sigh, “This is going to end badly.”

-

Blood and screams filled the clearing as claws clashed with knives and spells were thrown.

Isaac was laying in a pool of his own blood near Allison, who was heroically still firing off arrows and cross bolts despite having a broken leg.

Derek and Scott were trying to get at the leader of the coven by running towards him head first. Like idiots. 

Kira, Erica, and Boyd were having a much better, yet still bloody, go of it by simply fighting the witches that were only using knives. Peter liked those three the best. 

Stiles, magnificent Stiles, was countering spells rapidly. Saving his energy by slightly altering the spells to no longer be harmful instead of stopping them completely. Soft flowers were spraying Kira instead of the blades that had been heading for her. She yelled out her thanks before impaling the witch on her sword. 

Peter stood his ground beside Stiles, only there to protect his lover no matter what. That is, until a portal to somewhere full of fire and screams started to open up under the Spark's feet. 

Peter shoved Stiles roughly out of the way just before the portal swallowed him instead. 

-

Peter expected to open his eyes and see only flames, but his beautiful, clever Stiles had saved him at the last moment somehow. Peter found not torches and pain, but sunshine and the sound of children. 

Stiles had somehow altered the portal’s destination, not that that told Peter where he was. 

He looked around for any clues before pulling out his cellphone. He was somewhere with no service even though there was a large city on the horizon. Despite the part of him that was telling Peter to stay still and wait for Stiles, he knew he should figure out where he was at least. His boy wouldn't have sent him somewhere dangerous. 

Once on the outskirts of the town Peter found an old wet newspaper named The Baltimore Journal, dated March 23rd 1902

“Why would Stiles send me here?” Peter mused aloud. 

“What a strange name. I thought mine was weird for America and yet that's stranger.” Stiles’ voice came from behind him making Peter spin quickly to face his partner. 

“Woah there sir. My mama says ‘Don't be out spinning in circles or you'll lose your way my little Szczerbiec’ though I think she was just trying to stop me from making myself dizzy.” the strange woman, who was not Stiles, rambled. 

Now that Peter was paying attention he could hear the slightly higher pitch to her words, but not only did she sound like Stiles; she looked like Stiles. 

“Szczerbiec. Is that your name?” Peter asked, taking pride in his perfect pronunciation. 

The woman blinked as if surprised he’d actually spoken to her instead of walking away, “My name is Mieczyslawa Nowak. My name means-"

“Sword of Glory.” Peter finished for her. 

“Yes! How did you know? You don't sound Polish!” her excited was noticeable through her frantic hand motions and wide smile, just like Stiles. 

If Peter was stuck here he was glad to be stuck with someone that reminded him so much of Stiles. It was with that thought that Peter spoke again, “My wife has just passed and she was Polish. My name is Peter. Would you be able to help me find somewhere to stay for a couple of nights?” 

The woman’s emotions were so easily seen on her face that it sent a pang of longing for the innocent boy he’d fallen in love with all those years ago. 

“Of course I will! My husband and I run a cobbler shop just a little ways from here. You can stay with us and help around the shop!” 

-

“Well this is a sight I thought I'd never see.” Peter’s head snapped up when he heard the voice he cherished more than anything in the world. 

“Stiles?” The word left his lips like a prayer in the night. 

Stiles stood in the doorway of the Nowak’s shop, a wonderful grin on his beautiful face. Peter remained stunned where he was squatting in front of Mieczyslawa’s husband as the man told him for the fifth time how to fix the sole of a boot. 

Peter was in his lover’s arms faster than he could be called an idiot in Polish one more time. 

Stiles’ happy laughter filled his ears, warmth spreading through his entire being as Stiles’ arms wrapped tightly around Peter. He was so sure he’d never see this magnificent boy again and yet here he was. 

“Stiles? I thought you said Stiles was your wife?” Mieczyslawa asked from behind them. 

“Your wife huh?” Stiles mumbled against Peter’s neck, not looking up to face the woman that looked so much like him. 

“It’s the twentieth century my darling. I did not want to be murdered immediately.” Peter sighed. 

Stiles laughed again before looking up and tensing. 

“You were shacking up with my doppelganger?” Stiles asked incredulously. 

Mieczyslawa shouted something about not being evil while Peter laughed. 

“Can we talk about it when we go home?” Peter asked. 

Stiles smiled at him and between one breath and another they were no longer standing in turn of the century Baltimore but in the Preserve under a dark new moon. 

“How did you save me?” Peter asked his Spark. 

“I incinerated every witch in that clearing and then had to spend a couple weeks researching how to find you and then how the hell to get you back.” Stiles explained, flopping onto the ground from exhaustion. 

“My hero.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Come say hi [Lacrossepapi](www.lacrossepapi.tumblr.com)  
> 


End file.
